


Hermione's Problem

by TheWanderingAvarian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asexual Hermione Granger, F/F, Internalized Acephobia, Past Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWanderingAvarian/pseuds/TheWanderingAvarian
Summary: Hermione has a problem: she likes Padma Patil. But does she actually like her? Having never felt this way before, she decides to ask several people how they knew whether they were into people of the same gender. They all offer sound advice, but something's missing, and she's not quite sure why...
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Padma Patil
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38
Collections: Harry Potter Ace Fest 2020





	Hermione's Problem

This whole situation was just so...well...embarrassing. Surely she should have brains enough to figure this out herself without having to resort to asking  _ Lavender Brown _ of all people. In fact, a large part of her wanted to run from the room right now rather than endure this potential humiliation. It would cost nothing to keep her mouth shut. She could just keep going to the DA meetings, and it would all be fine. Probably. Hopefully. Maybe...

She let out a loud sigh of frustration and buried her face in  _ Intermediate Transfiguration _ . She’d been trying to pretend to read it until Parvati left and Lavender stayed behind to finish her make-up. Parvati had left almost ten minutes ago, and Lavender was getting close to finishing. If she wanted to ask, she had to do it now. 

She’d faced down a Basilisk for God’s sake! She could ask Lavender about  _ this _ .

But somehow she couldn’t escape the notion that asking Lavender about it was somehow a hundred times more terrifying than facing down a Basilisk. What if she spread it around the entire school? Both Parvati and Lavender were known gossips, and with the Inquisitorial Squad on the prowl as well... This was a dreadful idea. She couldn’t do it. 

But then Lavender rose to her feet, mere seconds from leaving. This was her last chance...

“Lavender!” The words escaped her before she could stop them, and Lavender turned around abruptly in surprise. 

“Yes, Hermione?” she asked.

“There was...something I wanted to ask you about.” She could already feel heat rising to her cheeks. 

“Oh?” Lavender’s eyes were now lit with the strange light of a gossip about to hear something definitely worth gossiping about. “What is it?” 

This was a dreadful, dreadful idea. But she had nowhere else to turn. 

“I was wondering if you could tell me how...how...” She must look like some sort of overripe tomato. Just spit it out, Hermione! “How you knew you liked girls!” 

Lavender’s face broke into a wide grin. This was it. The end had come for her. The reckoning day had begun. She ought never to have said anything in the first place, and now—

“Well why didn’t you say so!” cried Lavender. “So you like someone, do you? Are they in our year?” 

“I didn’t say that!” Hermione said quickly. “I was just...um, wondering, that’s all.”

“Well that’s no fun,” said Lavender, pouting. “But you think you like a girl, don’t you?”

Hermione deliberately avoided eye contact. “Could you please just answer the question?”

“Well, if you insist,” sighed Lavender. “But it really isn’t all that complicated. You dated Viktor Krum, didn’t you?”

“What’s that got to do with it?” 

“Everything!” cried Lavender, clapping her hands together. “I mean, you did fancy him, right?”

Hermione was sure her face was going red again. “I suppose so, yes.” 

“It’s all the same kind of thing—heart fluttering, choking whenever you try to talk to them, wanting to know everything about them...”

Hermione nodded. She’d felt that exact way about Krum, and now...

“And there’s the  _ obvious _ as well, but I hardly need to go into that—everyone knows you snogged Krum, so you probably know more than me!”

Embarrassment was rushing back in like a tidal wave, because that was, in fact, the very thing she’d wanted to ask about. 

Certainly she’d liked Viktor, and she’d felt all those things Lavender described: her stomach full of butterflies, her throat suddenly dry at the most inconvenient moments, her head up in the clouds, and she felt them now too. But they weren’t the problem. The problem was that the ‘obvious’ thing Lavender had talked about was something she’d never felt. Not to her understanding, anyway. 

She’d thought back then that everyone else was just making it up, that they were doing it for attention, and that real love felt like what she felt for Viktor. But the more she heard about it, the more it became clearer to her that there was something she was vitally missing, and she didn’t know why.

“So who is it then?” asked Lavender, bringing her abruptly back to reality. “You’ve got to tell me now—I helped you out and everything!”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Hermione said stubbornly, still trying to ignore how hard she was blushing. 

“Hmm,” said Lavender, scrunching her nose. “You waited for Parvati to leave, didn’t you? It must be because it’s something to do with her.”

That was getting alarmingly close to the truth.

“That isn’t—”

“Ha!” cried Lavender, so loudly Hermione thought half of Gryffindor Tower must have heard it. “I know who it is! It’s Padma, isn’t it?”

Hermione’s head returned to the hard cover of  _ Intermediate Transfiguration _ . She could have tried to hide it, but what was the point if Lavender had guessed already? 

“I knew you kept staring at her in the DA meetings for some reason,” Lavender continued, oblivious to Hermione’s discomfort. “Parvati thought it was because you didn’t like her, but it’s really because you have a crush on her, isn’t it?”

“Please, don’t spread it around everywhere!” cried Hermione, surfacing from her book again. “I’m not ready for anyone else to know yet.”

The look of triumph faded from Lavender’s face a little. “Are you sure? It’d be easier to ask her out if people are already talking about it, you know.”

“ _ Very _ sure,” said Hermione, sliding off the side of the bed. “I still need to think some things over.”

“Alright,” said Lavender, with a shrug. “I’m late for Parvati anyway. I wonder what I should tell her...”

“You can tell her I’m having boy troubles or something. It’s not that far from the truth.”

“Alright. Well, see you around, Hermione!” 

And with that Lavender breezed out of the door, leaving Hermione somehow even more confused than she’d been before. 

She sat back on her bed with a sigh. What was the point of going down and talking to the others? It wasn’t like Ron or Harry would understand. She  _ did _ like Padma. She was smart but not boastful, funny but not cruel, quiet but not shy, and she always smiled when she saw Hermione coming over to talk to her. It was...nice. Peaceful, compared to her usual friends. 

But was that enough? She never thought about kissing Padma, or anything else for that matter, and from what Lavender had said that was sort of expected in relationships. Wasn’t it possible she just liked her as a friend? But this didn’t feel like friendship... 

Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head against the bedpost. She was no good at this. She’d be better off leaving this sort of thing to other people—that was how it had happened last time, Viktor had asked her. But would Padma ever ask her? Did she even feel the same way? There was no way of knowing. 

She needed a second opinion, someone who  _ wasn’t _ Lavender Brown, to tell her more clearly. And there was someone else she knew that might be able to help...

* * *

“You like Padma?” asked Dean with astonishment. 

“Not so loud!” hissed Hermione, looking around the mostly empty common room. “And I’m not sure anyway. It’s...confusing.”

Dean gave a sympathetic grin. “Yeah, I felt that way when I first realised I was interested in Seamus. Really throws you for a loop, doesn’t it?”

Hermione nodded, relieved that he seemed to be taking it a bit more seriously than Lavender. 

“So you’re not sure?” he asked. “What aren’t you sure about?”

“It’s...difficult,” she admitted. “I know I like her, I just don’t know if I  _ like _ like her, if you know what I mean. I don’t have many friends that are girls. Maybe I’m just making it all up?”

“Fact you’re questioning makes me think it isn’t, but I know where you’re coming from,” said Dean, resting his hand on his chin. “I mean, I don’t want to sound like a creep or anything, so just shut me up if I do, but do you think about...you know, doing stuff with her? Kissing and that?” 

Hermione pushed down her embarrassment and forced herself to answer. “Well, kissing, maybe, but other stuff...”

Dean laughed. “Ah, don’t worry about it. I hear girls are less interested in that stuff anyway—I mean, if you want to kiss her though that says something, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Hermione, slowly. “I see what you mean.”

“There’s no harm in just asking her out, you know. Padma’s pretty chill—she wouldn’t spread it about everywhere if you did.”

Hermione nodded. She knew it was an illogical fear—and Padma certainly wasn’t the type to spread gossip, but could Dean be right? That it was just because she was a girl that she didn’t want to do ‘other stuff’ with Padma? Lavender had seemed to know what she talking about though, so maybe that wasn’t quite right.

“Nice talking to you, Hermione,” said Dean, getting up to leave. “I hope that helped a little.”

“It did, thank you.”

He gave her one last grin, then left. She felt a little closer to answers than when she had asked Lavender, but there was still something missing. There was, however, one last source at her disposal.

* * *

The library was quiet, as it usually was in the middle of term. This was the third book she’d read on the subject, and just like every other book before it, it had no answers for her. 

The section on ‘other’ sexualities was small in each one, but they all suggested much the same thing as Dean and Lavender. That there was a key part of the whole thing that she was entirely missing, in fact it was arguably, according to these books, the most important part. 

But this thing she felt—it  _ wasn’t _ friendship, she’d come to understand that well enough by now, so where did that leave her? 

Prudish? Maladapted in some way? Too young, even?

She slammed the book closed in frustration, causing Madam Pince to give her a nasty glare. Ignoring her, Hermione marched over to the shelf she’d gotten it from and returned it to its rightful place. 

What was wrong with her? Did even books hold no answers?

Within minutes she found herself striding out to the Black Lake, not really knowing why she was there, the wind buffeting her as she walked, blowing her hair into her face. As the cold set in, icy tears began to fall down her cheeks, caused, she told herself, by the wind, not anything else. But the lie was too much to bear. 

In the end she flung herself down on the bank closest to the school, out of sight from anyone looking, concealed by the castle’s bulk on one side and the lake on the other. Sniffing, she rested her face on her knees and allowed the sobs to take over. 

Maybe she really wasn’t ‘normal’? But unlike with magic, not in a good way. In a seldom talked about, hush-hush way that meant even if she did do as others had been urging her to, and asked Padma out, she would surely be rejected as soon as she realised the truth. That Hermione couldn’t love her properly. Couldn’t love anyone properly. 

“Why are you crying?”

Hermione jerked her head up, and the large, protruding eyes of Luna Lovegood stared back at her. Great. The very last person she wanted to see.

“Nothing,” she said, sniffing and wiping her eyes. “What do you want?” 

“I just wanted to see if you were alright, that’s all,” said Luna, though she didn’t sound angry, which somehow only made it all the worse. 

“I’m sorry,” said Hermione, still sniffing. “I just don’t want to talk about it, alright?”

“Why not?” asked Luna, sitting down next to her. “Is it something bad?”

“No! Well...yes, maybe. It’s personal, that’s all.” 

“Oh,” said Luna, and she seemed a little taken aback by this. “But if it’s not bad, surely it’s better to talk about it? You know, if you keep secrets you’re more vulnerable to Dabberblimps, and there are hundreds of them in the Lake.”

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. “There are no such things as Dabberblimps, and I’m sure I’ll be fine if I don’t talk about it.”

Luna looked very doubtful about this, but didn’t say anything further. Instead she just sat by Hermione in silence, apparently oblivious to how uncomfortable she was. 

In fact, from the way Luna was staring intently into the lake, Hermione suspected she might be on the lookout for some of these ‘Dabberblimps’ and likely wouldn’t leave until she’d spotted some. Just her luck. 

In some ways, though she’d never admit it aloud, she admired Luna, who never seemed to care what anyone else thought of her, no matter the circumstance. Perhaps if Hermione felt like that then this whole situation wouldn’t be giving her so much trouble. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Even if Luna couldn’t help with her specific problem, perhaps it would be wise to ask her for some tips. 

“How do you do it?” she asked with a sigh. “Not care about what other people think, I mean.”

Luna turned to stare at her. “I suppose I just don’t. I don’t know what’s going on in their heads anymore than they know what’s going on in mine. They might have good reasons for not liking me. Or they might not. But it doesn’t really matter either way. I know who I am. That’s the important thing.”

Hermione heaved a tremendous sigh. “I wish I did.” 

“What’s wrong?”

Hermione looked at Luna. She appeared to be quite sincere, and of all the people she’d talked to, ironically the least likely to write her off. 

“It sounds stupid but...I don’t think I can fall in love. Not properly, anyway.”

“Is that what you were crying about?”

“Yes.” 

“Hmm,” said Luna, a pensive, far-off look coming over her face. “Do you _want_ to be in love?”

Hermione frowned. “I...don’t know. Maybe I already am I just...” It was hard to think, but even as she did the words came out of their own accord. “I don’t think it’d ever be enough. Not with this...problem, I have.”

“Have you asked them?”

“What?”

“If it’d be a problem.”

“Well—no, but—”

“You’ll never know if you never ask them,” said Luna, quite seriously. “It’s like I said before. You don’t know what’s going on in their head anymore than they know what’s going on in yours. And you don’t seem that bad to me.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” said Hermione, a little taken off-guard by the compliment. “It’s nice of you to say so.”

“It’s true,” said Luna, staring at her with her large bug-eyes. Then her gaze lifted to a space just above Hermione’s head. She spoke in a whisper, “Be very careful, Hermione, there’s a Blibbering Humdinger just above your head!”

Well, it was nice while it had lasted anyway.

* * *

It was several days later that Hermione actually acted on the advice Luna had given her. After all, even if Luna was woefully misinformed about a great many other things, she’d been right about not being able to read others’ minds. 

During lunch she’d managed to find Padma sitting out on a bench by the Black Lake, not far from where Hermione had been crying just a few days ago. Now this would be the hardest part. But she had to face up to it if she ever wanted to move on from this. 

“Hi, Padma,” she stuttered as she walked over, the familiar feeling of being at a loss for words sweeping over her. “Can I sit here?”

“Of course!” said Padma, looking up from her sandwich. “How’re things?”

“Alright,” said Hermione. “Actually there was something I, um, wanted to ask you.”

“Yes?” 

Her brows had drawn into a pretty frown, and Hermione could already feel the world swimming around her. 

“I just wanted to know if—to know if…” Dammit why was this so hard? “If you’d like to go with me on the next Hogsmeade visit?”

Padma blinked. “As in, on a date?”

Hermione just nodded, unable to speak. 

Padma broke into a huge smile. “I’d love to go! Where were you thinking? The Three Broomsticks? Madam Puddifoot’s?” 

“I, um, hadn’t thought at all,” Hermione admitted. “I was so focused on asking you…”

Padma giggled, the tips of her ears going slightly darker. “It’s fine. I was wondering when you were going to. Parvati was telling me she thought you would.”

So she’d been right. Gossipers. What were they good for?

“There’s something else you should know too,” she said, not sure at all if she should, if it wouldn’t ruin the whole thing. “I do like you, I really do, but I’m...not like other people. I don’t… This is so hard to say…”

“What is it?” asked Padma.

“I’m not really much interested in...touching and kissing and all that. I know you might not want to go with me because of it and I thought I should just mention it, just in case…” 

Just in case it meant she’d reject her. 

Padma was quiet for a bit, and with each passing second Hermione felt the anxiety rising within her. Perhaps this had all been a mistake? Maybe Padma really wouldn’t like her because of it? And if she didn’t then… 

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” Padma was smiling again, the same smile that had first made her heart race.

“You...really mean that?”

“Of course!” she said. “If I had a problem then I’d have said so.”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile. So she needn’t have been worried at all.

“Hmm, it’s almost time for class,” said Padma, glancing at her watch. “Well, I’ll see you at Hogsmeade, Hermione! Don’t stand me up, now!”

And with that she left, still smiling. And Hermione, for the first time in weeks, felt she was looking forward to seeing her again.


End file.
